


Spare A Thought

by reason_says



Category: Pro Wrestling NOAH
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Kayfabe Compliant, Paranoia, Post-Match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reason_says/pseuds/reason_says
Summary: "I wonder if they're in on it too..."Or: An exploration of what it might look like if Kenoh actually did have paranoia, as distinct from being called "paranoid" as a general derogatory term.
Relationships: Kenoh & Kitamiya Masa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Spare A Thought

_コイツらもグルなのか…。_

_誰も信じない。金剛以外。_

* * *

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“They’re not--”

“They saw that asshole sneaking up behind me and none of them said anything, did they think it was funny? Are they--”

“Kenoh, please--”

“--in on it? Did he pay them off? Free tickets if they didn’t tell me?”

“They’re not allowed--”

“And Ohara!” Kenoh turned, his mouth drawn tight and pale with fury, his hands clenched into fists. “Where did he get that shirt? He pretended to be Ohara, but where did he get the Leave Mask shirt? Maybe…” With an effort and a shuddering breath he unclenched his fists and laid his palms flat on the table. “Would he do that?” he asked, hoping to hear an answer that made sense. “Would he be that cowardly?”

“No.” Kitamiya’s face was calm, which didn’t mean he was telling the truth. He usually did, but there was a first time for everything. “He wouldn’t. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. And he left Sugiura-Gun on purpose; why would he help them?”

“Who knows why he does anything?” Kenoh muttered, but Masa had a point. Maybe Kashin’s lie was just a lie, with no grain of truth. Maybe he’d made his own shirt to disguise himself, and lied about being Ohara just as he’d lied about being Sugiura or Sakuraba, with no cooperation from the men in question. But he wasn’t the only one at fault.

“Those bastards, though, the fucking-- the fans who take everything I do for them and pretend the company was behind it, and then laugh in my face…” His anger had deflated somewhat, but quickly returned. “Not one of them shouted ‘Look out!’ or ‘Behind you!’, even though they could obviously see him. Who could miss him, in bright pink? Ridiculous color. Either they were in on it or they just wanted to see me hurt, there’s no other explanation.”

“They’re horrible,” Masa agreed, “but when it comes to being in on a scheme, I think you’re giving them more credit than they deserve. He’d have to pay off all of them, and he isn’t that rich.”

“He doesn’t have to be; they’re cheap. He could sign autographs and they’d be happy. Or give them those ridiculous dog shirts.”

“I don’t know. There were fans with Kongo shirts in the crowd, they probably wouldn’t take his merchandise just to help him.”

“Then why? Why wouldn’t they warn me?” It made no sense, after all his promises, all the progress he’d made, why would the fans - worthless as they were - let him be attacked so easily?

“Kenoh,” Masa interjected, interrupting his train of thought, “look at me.”

Kenoh looked at him.

“Listen to me.”

Kenoh gestured impatiently, but nodded.

“They’re not allowed to cheer right now. They’re not allowed to make noise, or they’ll be kicked out.”

“I know that. So?”

“If they’re not allowed to say anything, they can’t warn you, either. They can’t even boo, let alone say ‘Behind you’. They’d be kicked out.”

“They should have risked it,” Kenoh objected. But… it did make sense when he considered it for a moment. It didn’t completely absolve them, though. “Being too cowardly to speak up is pathetic, they should be ashamed of themselves.”

“I won’t argue with you that they’re pathetic. I can’t believe anyone in that unit even has fans. But even though they’re worthless, not enough of them like that ridiculous man to go along with his schemes.” Kitamiya reached out, but hesitated for a moment until Kenoh nodded again. Then he laid his hands on top of Kenoh’s, pressing down lightly. It shouldn’t have helped, but it did.

“It doesn’t make them sound good to say this, but they were thinking more of themselves than of you. Protecting themselves, instead of actually wanting you to be attacked. The better ones probably thought you could take care of yourself, but even the worse ones weren’t in league with him. Unlike Orange.”

“That fucking-- what does Kashin have on him, I’d love to know. Is he being blackmailed, or is he just an idiot?”

Kitamiya laughed. It had been a serious question, but with effort Kenoh reminded himself that Kitamiya probably couldn’t tell. If he started doubting Kongo members he was done for. In any case, Orange could wait until Kashin had been dealt with. Unless he got involved in a match. Shit.

Suddenly he realized Kitamiya had been talking, and had to ask him to repeat himself. Embarrassing. He tensed his hands on the table, but Kitamiya pressed down more firmly, reminding him to stay present.

“I don’t blame you for not trusting the fans. They suck. But when you think about it, where would we be without them? Even in the no-crowd days, there was an audience at home; we need them, and they know it. So they can get away with wanting a spectacle more than they want to keep us safe. But that’s normal, it’s not a scheme they’re in on.”

“How do you know?” His voice came out more plaintive than he was comfortable with, and he cleared his throat. “You think you know what they’re thinking, but so do I. How do you know you’re right and I’m not?”

“I don’t know for sure. I’ll admit I’m not psychic if you’ll admit the same thing.” He cracked a grin, and Kenoh nodded in concession. “But this is what I think: so many people on twitter love you. I know you think you’re above vanity searching, but I’m not. Even when you yell at them, they’re proud you noticed them.”

“They’re weird,” Kenoh muttered, and Kitamiya didn’t seem to disagree.

“Maybe so. But it doesn’t make sense that so many people would want you to succeed and _none_ of them would be at the show. Which means it’s not their loyalty that made them stay silent. They just didn’t want to get in trouble.”

Kenoh sighed. At a certain point, having sensible arguments repeated to him made it hard to sustain his anger, no matter how suspicion gnawed at the back of his mind. There were other reasons, not just the worst option. Maybe the company had gotten Kashin the shirt - the fans couldn’t have, even if they’d wanted to. And maybe they’d been particularly forceful reminding people not to make noise at this show. He sighed again. There was nothing he could do about it now. Nothing except win.

“You’re right. Thank you.”

“Yeah?” Masa looked at him with a half-raised eyebrow, but didn’t move his hands.

“Yeah. It makes sense. Thanks for… being patient.”

Now Masa’s smile grew, and he pressed down on Kenoh’s hands once more before drawing away. “Of course. I’ll always help you if I can. And if I can’t, any of the boys can give it a shot.”

“You’re the best at it,” Kenoh pointed out, but it was true that the others made their own efforts, more or less clumsy. He was grateful, even if he didn’t really know how to show it. Being talked down took vulnerability and patience, and he didn’t have much time for either, but sometimes it was that or become convinced his next opponent had placed a camera in his apartment - none had been found yet, but that didn’t mean no one would ever try.

Kitamiya left the table and came back with a glass of water, which Kenoh drank gratefully. Something he could see, feel, and taste, to ground him. Not to mention that being angry was thirsty work. He couldn’t afford to be distracted - Kashin was the rival here, not the audience. Not even the company. If he lost sight of that, there was no point. He had to believe in himself, and in his own abilities, and in Kongo. That was all that mattered.


End file.
